Blue Jeans & Beauty Queens
by Danigirl32
Summary: AU Brazen Fic. Jason Morgan and Brenda Barrett return to Port Charles...together. What reaction will their presence bring?


Hey. I don't often write for Brazen, but I was in a mood. Hope You like.

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Feedback: Much appreciated

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_**Blue Jeans **_

_**&**_

**_Beauty Queens_  
**

_Part One_

"I can't believe I let you talk me into coming back here."

Jason Morgan looked down at the brunette sitting next to him as they rode along the darkened streets of the city he had left years before and swore never to return to. Funny how things changed in ways he never could have anticipated. Three years ago, he would have thought this was the last place he would return to.

No matter what news he received, how many messages left on his voice mail he ignored, and his determination never return to Port Charles had held firm. The friends and family he left behind couldn't understand the cold resolve that he no longer had a life here and their insistence that he would regret his choices hadn't changed his mind.

Yet this petite woman had.

The trip to Paris that first year had been unplanned, just another stop on a long trail of aimless wandering from one country to the next, trying to still restlessness that wouldn't let him go. For the first time in much too long, his life was his own to do with as he wished. Only during that year he had no idea exactly what to do with that life he had so desperately needed to reassert.

Hearing his name being called from a window of a flat was completely unexpected. He had found himself walking down one of the older streets of the city, making his way to a bistro he had heard of from a couple who lived next door to him. Francis and Monique Delacroix had taken him under their wing the afternoon he moved in.

Despite his reluctance to make connections, Monique had been a terrier. Relentless in her need to coddle, he couldn't deny the elderly woman that need, mostly because she reminded him of Grandmother Lila. Francis told him about the bistro and insisted that he have lunch there before he left the city or he could never truly understand the beauty of Paris.

It hadn't made much difference to him, food wasn't that big on his radar. He'd been to all the museums, the Eiffel Tower, rode through the country side, and still hadn't found what he had been searching for so he didn't expect one trip to one little out of the way bistro to make much difference.

Only it had.

"I told you," the woman sitting next to him spoke up and he could hear the annoyance in her voice. It seemed she was always annoyed with him for one reason or another but he didn't mind. That was just the way they related to each other. "I didn't want to come back to Port Charles by myself. It's going to be difficult enough seeing everyone, I could use at least one ally."

"I don't get why you wanted to come back in the first place," he risked a glance out the window, seeing the familiar sights pass before the moderate pace of the Bentley. "I'm sure Robin would have understood if you missed the wedding."

"I didn't like the feeling that I was hiding," she frowned, glancing down at her fingers folded in her lap. "I did a lot of hiding, I was hoping that I've grow up a bit since then."

"True," he admitted, "The last time you came back, you raised a lot of trouble."

"That's over now," she nodded, as if assuring herself instead of him. "I've changed. I'm not that same spoiled girl that I was."

"Yes you are," he shot back, "That's never going to change."

"Oh shut up," she rolled her eyes, "Just like you're still that non communicative Borg that everyone claimed you were."

"That's why you insisted that I stay in Paris with you?"

"Well," she hedged, and he could sense the vulnerability she didn't want to reveal, that she hated to reveal, "I missed seeing familiar faces."

"And owning your own design firm, having the wealth and acclaim of all those fawning assholes just wasn't making the grade?"

"Tell me how you really feel," she mumbled. "No it wasn't and you know it."

He lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulder so that she could lean into him. Even draped in the elegant dusky rose suit, even shielded by the upswept hair style that was supposed to make her look more mature and responsible, despite the confident face she showed the world, Brenda Barrett was still very much susceptible to the need for approval. Acceptance. The desire to be loved.

The day she received the wedding invitation from Robin to return to Port Charles for her wedding to Dr. Patrick Drake, the newest neurosurgeon of the General Hospital staff, Brenda's nerves had been snapping like live wires. She bounced from one extreme to the next, happiness for her closest friend and the desire to be there for her day to utter despair and not wanting to set foot in the city that had brought her so much pain.

The feeling was certainly understandable. There was no love lost between himself and this city.

"I know it was asking a lot for you to come back here," she smiled at him, genuine affection there, "I don't know if I thanked you or not."

He lifted a shoulder, knowing when the fallout hit he probably wouldn't feel the same, but he would cross that bridge when the time came. "You may wish that I hadn't when everyone sees the two of us together. They're going to think something is going on, you know that right?"

It was exactly what everyone thought back in Paris. Back there, it suited both of their purposes to allow that rumor to go unchecked. He certainly wasn't in the mood to fend off unwanted advances, and Brenda was tired of trying to decipher who was truly interested in her and who was attracted to the reputation she had built for herself in the fashion industry.

Here in Port Charles, well there were too many people who just wouldn't understand. Topping his list would be Sonny and Carly. Two people he was definitely uninterested in running into during this brief visit. Seeing Sonny would probably be inevitable, Sonny was close to Robin, so he would most likely be at the wedding. He would prefer not to run into Carly all together as their parting had been less than amicable.

Carly just couldn't understand how he could leave Port Charles when she needed him most. Her marriage to Sonny was over and she needed him there to help her pick up the pieces. What she had failed to understand was that there were pieces of his own to pick up. A broken heart that ached deep in his chest that needed time to mend.

All the months he had spent with Sam, anticipating a family they would build together, the love he had begun to realize he felt for her, he had lost it all when her baby died during child birth. Her grief had been too deep for him to touch. She had sat in his penthouse for weeks, silent except for her tears and pain, refusing to speak to him. He had tried, tried so desperately, but all she could think of was her baby and that she was gone.

Then the afternoon he had returned from work at the coffee warehouse and found her and Sonny together. It might have hurt less if they had been in bed with each other. She accepted the comfort that Sonny offered and despite the agony that burned in his chest he understood. This was their child that was gone. No matter how much he loved that unborn baby, she had been Sam and Sonny's.

Not his.

He had just been the man who had loved them both. Yet it hadn't been enough. He tried to maintain his distance, give them the time they needed to grieve, and hoped that one day Sam would turn to him, see how much he had loved her. That hope had died a fiery death the afternoon Sam told him that she was moving in with Sonny and that they were going to give their relationship another try.

Carly had been irate, the divorce was brutal. When all was said and done, Carly moved into a new house with Michael and Morgan, and he was left on the outside looking in yet again. It had been the final straw. There was no way that he could bear to watch Sonny and the woman he loved making a life together so he'd gone to Sonny and told him that he was leaving Port Charles.

Sonny offered to have him watch over his European interests, but he had declined. He was done with the business. Done with Port Charles. Done with everything.

All he wanted was a clean slate and the opportunity to start over without the baggage of an old life that brought him nothing but pain. Sonny had been angry, claimed he was jealous that he and Sam were together and already thinking of the new child they would have together. It was the truth, and he didn't bother denying it. He was jealous that Sonny had the woman he loved. He was jealous they would have a child together. He was jealous of the life they were sharing.

It was certainly the reason why he had no intention of watching Sonny build a life with a woman he had wanted for the second time.

Carly wanted him to stay, help her get Sonny back and if he had the strength perhaps he would have remained in Port Charles to be her moral support. To be her safety net yet again. Only he had been too raw, might have said some harsh things to her about growing up and taking responsibility for her own life instead of waiting for him to save her. It had been his desperation to escape and escape he had.

Packed his bags and left on the first flight out of the country that he could get. That had taken him to Madrid, Spain. Life led him to Paris and the friendship of Brenda Barrett.

It was funny, he could remember how she had told him they were friends before his accident. That man before must have had the patience of a saint because Brenda had the power to drive a man insane. If she wasn't talking, then she was complaining that he wasn't talking. She claimed the only taste he had was in his mouth, he had no sense of style, culture, anything.

He had responded by asking if that was actually a bad thing.

The question had caught her off guard, she blinked several moments before she giggled and a smile touched her lips. A joke, she had ventured, from the stoic Jason Morgan, then she acceded there might be help for him after all.

He still wasn't quite sure how she convinced him to stay in Paris with her, nor did he remember agreeing to purchasing the mausoleum she called their home so they could live together. All he knew was one morning he woke up and went down to breakfast and saw her chattering on the phone to a client across the table and didn't mind the company. It had been difficult to admit that he didn't like living alone. Being alone gave him too much time to think on what his life could be and yet would never be.

The things he had done all in the name of Sonny's organization, the life he had led, the ties he had cut, they were all too final to ever rectify. Being alone was probably his destiny, and though he had wishes, he never spoke of them. Not even to Brenda. She would probably try to fix him up with a woman, one of those skinny models that often lurked around the house before one of her shows. Then he would have to hurt her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He didn't know if he was asking for her or himself.

"Yes," she answered, "Robin is our friend, we should be here for her."

The two of them had repaired their friendship, though Brenda had done her best to push it back to the one they had once shared. Too much had happened, too much time had passed for that to happen, and he and Robin had been content with friendship. When she went back to Port Charles because she missed her family, Brenda had moped for weeks, certain that Robin would be miserable. Then she received that letter filled with news of that "arrogant jerk" and Brenda had pronounced Robin madly in love.

Seemed Brenda was right, though he would never say that aloud and never within her ear distance.

The driver pulled in front of the Metro Court Hotel and stopped, making them both tense a bit. From this moment, the shit was literally about to hit the fan.

The driver opened the door and helped her out, and she waited until he exited, then slipped her arm neatly into his, brushing a hand over the dark grey suit she had made him wear, though she was still annoyed she couldn't get him in a tie. He knew the arm was more for support than appearance. He could almost feel the nerves rushing through her. She knew this was Jax's hotel and he knew the memory of being left at the alter still stung no matter what brave face she put on for the rest of the world.

"It will be fine," he murmured, and she stiffened her spine and tilted her head back to look into his eyes.

"I know," she nodded. "How are you holding up? Still mad I made you wear the suit?"

"You didn't make me wear the suit," he replied and she chuckled her disagreement.

"You certainly weren't a willing participant."

"I just didn't see the point," he stepped forward and led her through the doors, "This isn't the man that I am. I don't wear business suits."

"I know you're most at home in your jeans and those awful t-shirts. Not to mention those funky boots you insist on wearing," she grimaced in disgust. "No one here would believe I would be interested in a man like that."

"Just like no one would believe I would allow a woman to dictate the clothes I wear."

"Uh," she paused, pointing a finger into his chest, "Grey suit here."

"I did it as a favor to you," he answered, ignoring her amusement. "Don't let it go to your head. The only time I'll put on another one is at the wedding."

"You did it because you love me and you know it," she laughed again. "go on admit it, you love me."

"I'll admit it when you learn how to bake those cookies," he drawled.

Neither of them saw the woman glaring at them, or heard her approach as they stood at the reservations desk securing the keycard for their suite. So it came as a big surprise when the arm grasped his and whipped him around only to slap him in the face loud enough that the sound echoed through the busy lobby.

"You dare to show your face here after three years!" the furious voice shouted, "And with her of all people?"

**_XXXXX_**

Brenda watched Jason blink slowly then take a hand and drag it across his face, then back through his hair. The bright red print flush on his cheek matched the barely banked fury in his eyes and she knew that trouble was coming. She certainly hadn't expected it to come this fast though and not in the form of Carly Corinthos.

Make that Carly Jacks.

She might not have visited Port Charles since she left years ago, but she was certainly kept abreast of the citizens of the city. Robin had informed her about Carly's recent marriage to her ex, and it should have hurt, only it hadn't hurt as much as she thought it would.

There was too much baggage between her and Jax, and no matter how much she might wish differently a lot of that pain had been inflicted by her hands. When Jax had jilted her at their wedding in front of all of their friends and family, it had been the final nail in the coffin in the death of their relationship.

Whatever Carly was feeling right now, seeing Jason after all of this time, she certainly had no right to smack Jason that way. The friendship between them was over, and Jason had changed. Changed so dramatically, that Brenda placed a hand over his chest, and shoved him back a bit.

Carly glared down at her, then back at Jason, as she planted her hands on her hips, blue eyes glaring daggers of hatred at them both. "You have nothing to say for yourself?"

"Still just as impulsive as you ever were, that much hasn't changed," Jason grunted, then shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'd appreciate it, if you kept your hands to yourself next time."

Carly blinked at the cold tone of voice, as if she didn't know what to think. What had the woman expected? That after everything Jason had been through, he would come back to Port Charles the same whipped dog he had been before he left. One thing she could say about their friendship, she certainly didn't lean on Jason to run her life or make decisions for her, or to make sure she didn't' do something self-destructive.

And she actually listened to him.

"Is that all you have to say," she whispered bitterly, "You left three years ago and haven't' sent word one way or another and that's all you say to me, your best friend." She pushed a blonde ponytail off her shoulder, tears filling her eyes, "I had to hear from Robin of all people that you were at least alive. She wouldn't even tell us where you were, just that she had seen you in Paris."

Brenda had made Robin promise not to tell anyone where Jason was. Jason turned and glanced down at her, a flicker of question in his eyes, but he said nothing to dispute Carly's words. She knew that the moment anyone here in Port Charles discovered where Jason was, they would be after him to come back. Back to live the life they wanted him to have, instead of trying to find some sense of happiness for himself.

"Is that why you're here? Because of Robin?" Carly asked, "Her wedding is this weekend, so that's why you decide to come back. You left your family here, but you come back for that bitch that betrayed you."

"Don't call her that," he warned quietly, "Robin and I have settled our differences Carly, so let it go."

"She tore our lives apart and you want me to let it go," she demanded, but must have seen the answer on his face because she changed her tactics, "and what about her? What are you doing here with her?"

Beneath that rage, Brenda could hear the hurt in Carly's voice, and it gave her no pleasure to know her presence was hurting anyone. "I asked Jason to come to the wedding with me," she spoke up, in this instant changing her mind about allowing people to believe that she and Jason were in a relationship. "He agreed to come because we're friends, that's all."

"Friends?" Carly looked from her to Jason, eyes resting on the casual way their arms were looped together, "It doesn't' look that way to me."

"Yes," she insisted, "Just friends. Look," she adjusted the small purse on her arm, "I'm going to go up to the suite," she told Jason, "Why don't you talk to her."

"The suite," Carly looked shocked, "You two are sharing a suite? That definitely doesn't say friendship to me. In fact, I bet you couldn't wait to get your hooks into Jason. That's your M.O. isn't it, cuddling up to some man, being all vulnerable and needy, so that he can come rescue you."

"Shut up!"

The crisp order silenced Carly, and made her cringe in sympathy. The one thing she had tried to prevent was going to occur simply because Carly didn't know when to back off. "Jason, it's fine."

He turned that intense blue glare in her direction and she rolled her eyes, "I'm just trying to be civil. You want to cause a scene in the middle of the hotel lobby go right ahead."

"First of all," he began, passing her the card key, "We're going upstairs," he glanced at the watch on his wrist, "We agreed to meet Robin and Patrick at the rehearsal dinner at eight thirty. That gives you two hours to primp."

"I do not primp," she insisted.

"And change outfits six times."

"I didn't bring six outfits."

"No, you brought twelve."

"Excuse me? Still standing here," Carly pointed out.

"Second," he turned to Carly, "My reasons for coming back here don't concern you. You have your life now, and I have mine and that's the way it's going to stay. No more safety nets, no more catching you when you fall, no more saving you from self destruction." The hurt in Carly's eyes made Brenda feel even more pity for the woman, but the changes in Jason over the past three years wouldn't be undone simply because they re-entered this city.

"I'm here for Robin's wedding, on Tuesday morning I'm getting back on a plane and returning home to Paris. The end. Understand? You can forget you saw me if that helps you to cope, but I'm won't stand here and listen to you put Brenda down because you're angry with me. Get over it."

Her eyes fluttered, then an unavoidable tear slid down Carly's cheek, "What happened to you?"

Jason took a deep breath and a step away, ready to leave and Brenda didn't try to stop him, "I grew up," was his only answer then he pulled her toward the elevator.

_**Part II**_

To say that the citizens of Port Charles were shocked when Brenda Barrett and Jason Morgan walked into the Grande Ballroom of the MetroCourt Hotel together would have been the height of understatement.

For several obvious seconds there was silence. Only the small band strumming it's instrumental version of Celine Dion's _Because You Loved Me _filled the thick tension choked air, as all eyes remained pinned to the door where the couple had just entered. Given the event, the engagement dinner of the soon to be married Doctors Robin Scorpio and Patrick Drake, it was safe to say that everyone in the city who remembered the seperate antics (as well as the strange marriage) of the couple were there to witness the homecoming.

The rumors the next day would run rampant.

However for the moment, the petite brunette currently being upstaged released her fiancee's hand and walked across the crowded room to greet her late guests, with a anxious smile. "Jason, Brenda, I didn't think you were coming."

Jason watched Brenda eagerly hug Robin, her smile bright and genuine, but only someone who knew her well could sense that layer of fear she tried to hard to hide. He had been forced to judge six seperate outfits, all of which had looked just fine to him, until she went back to the first. Then the same parade had continued, only with shoes this time.

Given the hand that he scrubbed across his face, she just laughed and asked if she was being silly. He was only happy to tell her yes. "We would have been here thirty minutes ago if your friend hadn't been trying on her entire wardrobe."

Robin snickered, probably as much from the thought of him watching the impromptu runway show as the truth of Brenda's wardrobe panic attack. He definitly needed to get away from the woman before she drove him insane. Being haranged by those schmucks from Barrett Designs and inundated with the design industry was taking it's toll.

He only hoped it wasn't catching. Maybe he should go out and shoot something to be sure.

"Then you should be a little more vocal with your opinions," Brenda shot back, "Instead of that's fine, you look fine, what's wrong with that one, you might actually utilitze the extensive vocabulary you must have picked up from reading all of those damned books."

The smile that curved Robin's face should have been warning enough that he wouldn't like her next words. "The two of you sound like an old married couple, you know that right?"

"As if!"

"Fuck that." He looked down at Brenda's outburst, noting her blatant eye roll and tried not to sneer. Good friends they were, but no one else needed to know that.

"It's true," Robin continued to point out. "Look, you even managed to coordinate your outfits. Brenda in that gorgeous cobalt halter dress, you Jason in your dark suit with the cobalt shirt."

"I tried to get him to wear a tie," Brenda apologized, as if he had committed capital murder instead of forgoing the noose for the night. It was bad enough she had guilted him into a suit again. "Even picked out a really nice one."

"Whatever," he mumbled.

"I'm just glad you came," Robin went in for a hug, so he leaned down to oblige, not even minding the kiss on his cheek. "I know neither of you were particularly interested in returning to Port Charles anytime soon."

"We came for you," Brenda told her, "I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world."

A tall lanky guy joined them, slipped a possessive arm around Robin's waist and Jason figured this was the neurosurgeon she was marrying. Patrick Drake smiled as Robin introduced them, giving him the opportunity to take his measure. Arrogant was right, but not so bad in his opinon. A guy had to have some balls to cut into people's heads for a living. Granted he hated hospitals and most doctors, but he wouldn't hold that against Drake since Robin had that happy smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you," Drake shook his hand, a firm grip, "Robin's told me alot about you both."

"Don't believe any of the stuff about me," Brenda grinned, bussing one of her famous Barrett kisses on his cheek, "But you can believe all of it about Jason. Robin's nice, so she probably didn't tell half of the good stuff."

"As if I'd ever lie about you Brenda," Robin curved into Drake's arms practically glowing.

"Yeah, she probably didn't tell that story about you mooning the photographers that night in Marseille because you were drunk," Jason felt obligated to point out. He didn't even mind the stilletto stabbing into his insole given Robin's burst of laughter. She did a good job of trying to cover it up, but unfortunately it drew every eye in the room back in their direction.

"Jerk, you didn't have to bring that up," Brenda followed up one dose of pain with a elbow shot to his ribs. "I don't go around telling people you read travel manuals for fun."

"That's no where near as good," Patrick pointed out, still chuckling at the blush on Brenda's face. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to take Jason over to the bar and get him a drink and he can tell all the embarrasing stories that Robin refuses to disclose."

"Did she tell you about the night her and Brenda went skinny dipping," but before he could get the rest out two slender hands slapped over his mouth.

"Jason!" both feminine voices of outrage demanded in barely muffled shrieks. "Has he been drinking?" Robin asked Brenda who in turn shook her head. At his pointed glance they each moved a hand, still glaring. "First he's making jokes, then he's being socialable. What the hell have you done to him Brenda?"

"He's certainly not living up to that Borg reputation of silence, that's for sure," Brenda huffed, "Maybe he does need a drink, it might shut him up."

After promising to keep quiet about their secrets, he joined Patrick at the bar, accepting the scotch, neat, from the bartender. It wasn't his personal blend but decent. Making polite conversation with Patrick was easy, a skill that it took a while to master. He tried to remember that he was no longer the silent enforcer who needed to guard his words. Managing to dodge the curiosity about his background and work was child's play now, though it wouldn't have made a difference. Old habits just died hard.

He could say Brenda helped with that, the woman refused to shut up on most days, and he had learned either to keep up or be run over. He took another sip of his drink, enjoying the hint of pepper and the mellow burn on the way down, and looked around the room noting all the eyes on him. Had he really been gone so long? Or was Port Charles really as small as it seemed tonight?

He could almost hear the conversations, as people pondered where he had been all this time. If he was still in the business working for Sonny. Wondering, what had brought him back to the city considering his relationship with Robin had been less than friendly the last time they were together. If he actually gave a damn about what they thought of him, he might have answered.

That much hadn't changed no matter how much he had.

A glimpse of Carly who looked like she was ready to stalk across the room to him, brought back the conversation from the lobby. He hadn't meant to be that abrupt with her, but he had developed a marked lack of tolerance for bullshit since leaving. In all of the phone messages, all of the whiny and crying for him to come home, not once had she asked how he was doing? How he was feeling?

None of them had. except Emily and Monica, so it hadn't been a hardship to drop them a post card every so often if only to let them know he was still alive. Given how they felt about the other leeches in his life, he hadn't even bothered asking them to keep his whereabouts to themselves.

How had he allowed his life to turn into that mess? Cleaning up after Sonny and Carly's messes, being Sonny's right hand, or rather pet dog. And he was supposed to drop everything he had to return to that life?

"Is it always like this when you walk into a room, or just here?" Patrick wasn't oblivious to the stares, couldn't be given how some weren't even trying to be discrete.

"I guess you could say Brenda and I were a surprise to most of them," he admitted. "My mother tells me that you're a pretty decent surgeon." At his raised brows he clarified, "Monica Quartermaine, chief of staff at GH."

"You're _that_ Jason," he blinked in surprise, "I mean, Emily told me about her brothers, I just didn't connect the two of you together."

"No reason you should have," he told him in reprieve, "It's not like I went around claiming the Quartermaine hertiage while I was here, I certainly didn't when I left." He noticed Robin waving in their direction, "Looks like you're needed." As Patrick stood he offered his hand, shaking easily, "I didn't congratulate you. I hope you and Robin are happy together, she deserves that."

"Thanks man," Patrick nodded, "Look, my best man, Nikolas Cassadine, is throwing a bachelor's party tonight at Jake's, you should come."

"Maybe I'll drop in," maybe not. It wouldn't hurt to toss back a few at Jake's, play a little pool and antagonize the masses.

So when had he become a sadistic bastard? He was here for the wedding, nothing more. He certainly didn't want to party with pansy assed princes who wouldn't know a good pool cue if it smacked them in the face. But he'd promised Brenda, and if Patrick was having a Bachelor's Party, it was a given Robin would be having something as well.

Brenda would nag his ass six ways from Saturday if he stayed in their suite all night.

Maybe he could get laid, that might be worth the suffering.

**_XXXX_**

"So what did you do to him?"

Brenda should have known this was coming from the moment she caught the blonde's eyes across the room. It wasn't enough to be stared at all evening as if she were the latest dish on _E! Hollywood_, but now she had to endure the interrogation from the harpy bitch from hell. And all she wanted was to check her makeup.

The night was actually fun for the most part. Robin and Patrick were extremely happy and made the cutest couple, so she was extremely happy for them. Jason was on his best behavior, actually being friendly, which she knew she would have to pay for later on. No favor with the guy was ever forgotten.

True Jason was one of her best friends, okay, besides Robin he was probably her only real friend. One she knew she could always depend on and never expected her to be anything more than the woman she was. So she might not mind being in debt to him.

Damn, she was going to have to find someone to make those cookies he kept bugging her about.

It was nice to see the Quartermaines again, they were the only family she had. Jason was his usual silent self around them, ignoring Edward but giving his mother and sister a quiet smile. The idiot just didn't know how lucky he was to have family given her older sister's refusal to be involved in her life.

She hadn't even given Jason a chance, stuck on the fact that he used to work for Sonny. If she had maybe she would realize that there was a lot more to Jason than was given credit for. Granted it took marrying the guy to actually discover some of those inner layers, but now that Brenda had, she wasn't sorry.

"Do we have to do this tonight Carly?" The blonde in question stalked across the small power room, slapping her silver clutch down and looked like she was preparing for battle. Battle for what? Jason's honor? Did Carly really think Jason needed to be rescued from her?

Must be all that inner guilt, considering the people Jason had needed to be rescued from were her and Sonny.

"I want to know how you convinced Jason to turn his back on the people he cared about? He never would have walked away from us and not looked back. He didn't even keep in touch with Michael!"

That had hurt Jason most of all, but he hadn't wanted to put the little boy in the position of lying to his parents, so he had been forced to result to cards and the occasional present on holidays and birthdays without even knowing how his nephew was doing in return. "How on earth do you think I made Jason do anything?"

True Jason had agreed to come back with her, and she often nagged him into giving in, but only on superficial stuff. If Jason was against something, there wasn't a thing anyone could say to make him believe or do otherwise. Considering Carly was supposed to be his 'best friend', Brenda would have thought she already knew that.

"All I know is Jason walked away without a word to anyone and now he comes back for Robin's wedding of all things, when we both know that bitch was responsible for ruining our lives."

"You mean she told the truth about Michael being AJ's son." Brenda pointed out, obligingly.

"Only in her need to control Jason."

"You mean like you were doing, because he loved that little boy so much?"

Brenda closed her eyes on a wave of fatigue that had nothing to do with jetlag and everything to do with the annoyance in front of her. How on earth had Jason tolerated her for so long. Rather than argue, she just stood silently and watched Carly rant on and on. The woman really didn't need a response, she managed to carry on without one just fine.

"Look!" She finally interrupted when Carly went from one tangent to another. First it was Jason, then Sonny and Jax, next it would be world domination. If she had the power that Carly was implying, just imagine if she actually put an effort into controling everyone around her, like a certain blonde did.

"I really could care less what you think I've done to Jason. What matters is that this isn't the appropriate place or time to discuss this. I don't understand how you were invited to Robin's engagement dinner, but the least you can do is not create a scene."

"Let me tell you something-"

"Let's don't and pretend like you did." Brenda picked up her own purse, a nice little clutch design of her own in sleek black and trimmed in the same cobalt as her dress. "Whatever is between me and Jason, is just that. I'm sorry that he doesn't want to rescue you anymore Carly, but I had nothing to do with that decision."

"You think you know everything don't you?" Given the sheen of tears in those blue eyes, Brenda knew she had struck a sore spot and she understood finally. It had to be something _she_ did to Jason because otherwise how could Carly admit to herself that the choice had been Jason's all along.

"I know I'm celebrating my friend's happiness tonight and that's what matters most. Now move Carly." It was a voice she had used on more than one subordinate who failed to jump when she said so. It wasn't quite as powerful but effective nonetheless. Carly understood the conversation was over.

**_XXXX_**

"Hello Jason."

It was a voice he hadn't heard in a very long time, though it still sounded the same. Tenative, unsure, as if afraid to be a bother. He turned to face the woman he had loved though he never truly had and was surprised to find that he didn't feel anything, except for perhaps mild curiousity.

Sam McCall-Corinthos. He knew from Robin that his former roommate had married Sonny and they had a little girl named Adela, shortly afterwards. The grifter/con-artist who had fallen for Sonny looked happy at least. "Sam." It wasn't like he was still in love with her, but neither had he been looking forward to this confrontation. Looking back, he hadn't exactly kept his feelings for her hidden very well.

"How have you been?"

"Good," he lifted a shoulder, and it was actually true. "You?"

"I'm good," she smiled shyly, "Sonny's been looking for you, I told him I wanted to come out to speak to you first, if that's okay?" She set down the champagne glass she held and pulled the little silk wrapper tighter around her bare shoulders. "I never had a chance to tell you thank you for everything you did for me. You were good to me after my baby died and I never told you how much I appreciated that."

Appreciation. Yeah, he was always good for that wasn't he? "You don't have to thank me." Please don't thank him, remind him of just how much of an idiot he had been during those years. This was why he didn't want to be in Port Charles. In Paris, he could be the Jason Morgan he liked. Here in this city were memories of a man that he wished he would disappear forever.

"It's true Jason, you took me in and were planning to help raise her. I don't know-"

"Really Sam," he interrupted watching color bleed into her face, her fidgeting. "It's fine, so you and Sonny are married?" Anything to change the subject. When she nodded so did he, "That's good, I hope you're happy."

"He misses you, you know," she said. "He says Max and Milo are good, but none of them are you. You're his best friend."

No, he wasn't, Jason thought coldly but that was nothing she needed to hear. Besides, to Sonny, the Jason Morgan he had been probably was the closest thing the man had to a best friend. Only Sonny hadn't realized that sometimes he was supposed to take the bullet, place his life on the line or listen to the other's heartache. A one sided friendship wasn't a friendship at all.

"I'm sure Sonny is fine." She seemed to take the hint from his cold tone and went silent.

"Then I'll go get him, he really wants to talk to you," she repeated, "I just needed to say thanks again. I know you don't think it was much, what you did for me, but it was. I wouldn't be with Sonny, have Adela, if you hadn't been there for me."

He watched her walk away in a fan of green silk, wondering what to think about that. Then he pushed it aside, deciding it wasn't worth the effort. Sonny must have been standing in the doorway listening because he stepped out a second after her. He held back a grin at the thought of Sonny eavesdropping.

Not much had changed about the man, though if possible he did look a few inches shorter. He still leaned toward black Italian suits, with the discrete wink of gold at the cuff. Sonny grew up poor, abused and powerless. Everything he did from the moment he was capable of fighting back screamed that he wasn't that fightened little boy anymore.

Unless he looked in Sonny's eyes. Sonny's eyes always held that trace of desperation.

"Jason, it's good to see you," that smile looked welcoming, but Jason understood the point of this meeting. Sonny needed to know his reason for returning to Port Charles. It wasn't easy to step away from the organization. His repuation and the fact that he had left the country had helped smooth things over with the other families, but returning was risk.

"Sonny."

The man probably wanted to know if Jason had any intention of coming back. Or worse, working for another organization. He could have told Sonny that he had no intention of doing either. But he answered to no man now. Let Sonny sweat it out the few days he was here. It would keep him on his toes. Besides, Sonny wouldn't dare come after him in other than a neutral setting. Jason might be out of the business but that deadly edge that made him the best at pulling the trigger would never go away.

"How have you been?"

"Good."

"So, how is Paris?"

"Good," he returned carefully. It was no secret that he lived in Paris but if this was a subtle threat, he wasn't quite sure. And Sonny never was one for subtly. "How are Micheal and Morgan?"

"They're good," Sonny answered, "Michael loves that dirt bike you sent him over for Christmas. Morgan's crazy about the model trains."

"I'm glad they're enjoying them."

Sonny shifted a bit, pushing his hands into his pockets, a small reveal of anxiety that he had never learned to conceal completely. "So, you and Brenda."

"What?" The question threw him, completely.

"I didn't know that you and Brenda were together. How long has that been going on?"

The frown of disgust creasing his features was too strong to hold back, "Is that what you wanted to see me about? Brenda?" The spark of guilt in his eyes was all the answer he needed. "Damn man, you're married, and you're still sniffing around Brenda?"

A bitter little thought filter through his incredulity, "Is that why you went after Sam? I mean, she does favor Brenda in a way. That small frame, dark hair."

"I love Sam, she's my wife, the mother of my child."

"Just like Carly," Jason rolled his eyes. "It's not that you want Brenda, it's that you don't want anyone else to have her. You know, after everything you've put her through, I can't believe you're this much of an asshole."

Insulted on his friend's behalf, Jason slammed his tumbler down on the granite table and glared down at the man he once called friend. "What the hell did I ever see in you? How the hell could I have thought so much of a man who has the instincts of a seven year old? Brenda is yours and no one else can have her, even if you don't want her."

"That isn't what I was saying. I'm just concerned about her, that's all, Jason. You were mighty quick to compare Sam and Brenda. Is that what you're doing, using Brenda as a substitute for Sam? I remember how you felt about Sam, maybe you thought you had to pay me back for getting back together with her and you're using Brenda to do that because you know what Brenda means to me."

"That's right," he nodded, scrubbing a hand over his mouth, "Because I could never be friends with Brenda because of her right?"

"I remember how the two of you were with each other. You always were fighting as if you hated each other," Sonny countered. "There has to be some reason for the two of you trapising in here after three years, together no less, if you're not using her to get back at me, then what is it?"

"It's the sex."

And two sets of shocked eyes looked up at that blunt reply, one in utter shock and the other in amusement. Brenda stalked onto the balcony, and he had to say, with her hair in those wild curls, that damned sexy dress and that fury in her eyes, Brenda could have convinced him that her words were the truth.

Barely holding back a laugh, Jason watched her cross the small patio to him and wrap an arm around his waist. "I thought you would have figured that out by now Sonny. I mean, we were married before."

"You got an anullment," he pointed out quickly, "That means you didn't sleep together."

"You mean we _told_ everyone we didn't sleep together." Brenda lifted a knowing brow, "I mean, we lived together for how long? How could I have resisted him, especially when he would come home all tired and sweaty after working all night, running after you and Carly. It was just a matter of time before we were climbing all over each other."

"You said you were marrying her to act as her next of kin when she thought she was sick," Sonny accused, his eyes dark with growing anger at what he obviously considered betrayal. "And you two were actually-"

"Fucking," Brenda asked smartly. "Every chance we got. I mean, come on, do you think he had that pool table right there in his living room and I never tested it out. I have to admit, it was a little sweaty on that leather couch but Jason was really good about the shower afterwards. Every time I look at a loofah, I get goosebumps."

"You-" Sonny got no further before Jason shot a hand out and grabbed the front of his shirt, the pressure tight and ruthless on his neck. He jerked the man close until they were eye to eye.

"Watch it," he growled. It was one thing to get angry with him, but Jason would never allow him to get verbally abusive to Brenda, especially not in his presence. He had much to his disgust, heard Sonny's opinion of women he felt betrayed him. Why Sonny thought Brenda had betrayed him after all this time was just a symptom of the man's possessiveness.

"And what are you going to do," Sonny grunted against the grip, "You forget who you're dealing with, Jason. You're not in the business anymore, you're not under my protection."

"The day I need a Napoleonic wannabe to protect me, is the day they'll close my coffin and bury me." He leaned in with just enough bite to ensure Sonny understood he wasn't pretending. "You will speak to Brenda with respect, or not at all. Are we clear?"

"Isn't that just like you, protecting my leftovers," Sonny sneered, "You couldn't have Sam, so you chose the next best thing."

"You wouldn't know the best from the closest mouth wrapped around your dick. You had the best thing and tossed it away like an idiot. So keep your mouth shut about Brenda, or I'll shut it for you."

A flicker of fear lit in Sonny's eyes, so he cut them quickly to Brenda who still had a clutch on his free arm. "You like having him taking up for you. You always were a woman who needed men fighting over you."

"There's just one problem with that, Sonny. From where I'm standing, this isn't a fight at all. I only see a sad little man about to piss his pants. Now I understand why you needed Jason all those years. Because you're nothing without him and you know it."

"You made a mistake here tonight." And Jason didn't even pretend not to hear that threat. Only problem was, he didn't take kindly to threats. So he leaned in and whispered in the a voice Brenda would later tell him was so damned cold that hell could have frozen over.

"You better make damned sure you know who you're coming after before you make that move, Corinthos."

**_XXXX_**

"What the hell was that down there!"

Jason tossed his jacket onto the couch, ignoring the shocked look on Brenda's face, leaving her to close the door to their suite behind them. He was feeling pretty damned astonished himself truth be known and the outraged voice coming from his mouth just continued on a long line of revelations that he wasn't certain he wanted to confront. One minute he was settling old ghosts and the next he was defending Brenda and about to rip a former best friend and employer a new asshole in the process.

Just when had he become so overprotective of his nagging roommate?

"I'm sorry," she frowned tossing her own things aside, striding across the elegantly decorated suite toward the bar to snatch up a bottle of water and drink. "I know I was stupid, I know I was provoking Sonny but he just pissed me off so badly. One minute I'm coming to tell you that Robin and Patrick are about to make a toast and the next I'm telling Sonny that you and I are sleeping together."

"Do you want him back?" The very thought burned like acid in his stomach. Damn it, hadn't that bastard put her through enough? The idea had roared to life in his head loud enough for him to drag her from downstairs and back up to their room away from the prying eyes of Port Charles. "Is that why you did it, because you wanted him to be jealous? I know we usually pretend that we're a couple back in Paris, so if that's what you're doing here, I guess I'm okay with it."

He stalked over to the balcony, tossing open the glass doors so air could filter into the stifling room. Or was that heat merely from the strength of his rage. "No, I'm not alright with it," he snarled turning back around. He would not fall back into that old pattern of behavior. Accepting scraps, being patted on the head like a good boy and keeping his feelings locked inside. "I'm not going to be your Jax, while you and Sonny screw with each other's heads again."

"That's not what," she frowned, then slammed the bottle back down, obviously growing just as furious, "I have no intention of playing any kind of game with Sonny. I don't want Sonny. Whatever the hell was between us, ended a long time ago."

"He is the reason you wanted me to marry you," he reminded her, "In fact, you threatened to destroy his and Carly's marriage if I didn't. So what's so different this time?"

"I'm different!" She stalked over to him, "I thought you knew me better than that by now. I thought you knew I would never use you in any way."

"Then make me understand," because he needed her to. He needed to have some words to take away the damned vivid images she had planted in his head. "You tell me why you deliberately provoked Sonny, if not to make him jealous."

"I don't know," she shrieked, tossing her hands up in the air, "I told you the truth Jason. Damn it, if it's not bad enough your harpy friend tries to confront me in the bathroom-"

"What?"

"Oh as if you didn't know," she muttered, "I'm talking about your best friend forever who thinks I did something to you to make you like me and leave her. Then I walk up on Sonny accusing you of using me as some kind of substitute for the woman you really wanted, all the while doing his usual dog with a bone routine and I over reacted okay!"

"What did Carly say to you?"

"Is that all you heard?" Rolling her eyes in frustration, she gave him a good hard shove, which should have been funny considering it was about as affective as an ant rolling a boulder up a hill. "What are you made of brick or something?"

He caught her wrists before she could storm away, "What did Carly say?"

"As if I can't handle Carly."

"I'm not saying that," he drew in a deep breath trying to find some of his customary calm.

"Sure sounds like it."

"Brenda," the drawl was terribly close to begging. A ache had begun to pound behind his eyes and the last thing he needed was for her to provoke it further.

"I mean, I'm not the one stressing on something the blonde harpy said. I can handle Carly with my eyes closed on a bad hair day with both hands tied behind my back." She told him, tossing her hair across her shoulder in a gesture of defiance, then added as if needing more, "With a fever of one hundred and one."

"You shouldn't have to handle Carly," he ground out. When he lowered his head tiredly, he felt all the emotions drain out of them both. "I hate this fucking city. Remind me again, why the hell we came back?"

"Because," she said softly, "It was time to stop running from our pasts," she reminded him. "That's what we were doing in Paris."

"That's funny because I thought we were living a pretty decent life in Paris. A life that had nothing to do with these assholes that don't know how to leave well enough alone."

"If our lives were so good," she murmured, tugging on her arms gently this time, so he released her. Instead of walking away, she placed both hands on his chest, resting her forehead with her own sigh. "Then being here should be no problem."

"You know it's not that simple," he reminded her, rubbing his hands along her bare back, feeling the cool skin begin to heat.

"Nothing about Port Charles has ever been simple for us," she said, meeting his gaze. This time her soft brown eyes were just a bit vulnerable, and more than sad. "Port Charles has always represented both good and bad memories and I'm tired of letting them control me."

"I just want to go home," he sighed. "Everything was good at home. We were happy at home."

"We have Robin's wedding to get through and then we'll go back. Until then, let's try to get through these next few days without killing anyone or starting a small war." That little sarcastic smirk was much better than the mournful one. "I didn't know you were happy in Paris." She paused briefly, "With me. I mean, that it's home to you."

"Stop fishing for compliments," he rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious," she nudged him with one of those damned pointy fingers of hers.

"Well so am I," he let his hands thread through her hair, cupped the back of her neck. And clearly he wasn't thinking when he lowered his head and placed his mouth against hers. It wasn't much of a kiss, just a brief rub of his mouth on hers. A feather-light caress that was as tender as a breeze but left his mouth, his entire body burning in it's aftermath.

Her mouth was perfect. Warm and sweet as she returned the kiss with a hum of pleasure that sent the blood pooling in his groin. This should have been all kinds of wrong, except when her hands clenched the front of his shirt he groaned at the delicious spurt of hunger that spiraled through him. At the tenative lick of her tongue, he lingered over her taste, savoring this insane moment. When he pulled away, her stunned gaze mirrored how he felt.

"What was that?" But her whisper proved that she was utterly shaken by the offhanded gesture.

"I don't know," he told her, "I'm going to do it again to be sure, is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, I think you'd better."

_**Part III**_

Complications.

Jason Morgan hated them. Ordinarily. He was a simple man. Every morning when he climbed out of bed he liked a hot shower, he slipped into a pair of comfortable jeans, a t-shirt and his boots. He went downstairs and had a hearty breakfast, sometimes his favorite of huevos rancheros, and a steaming cup of coffee. If he was in a good mood, or if the paper was particularly interesting, he had a second cup.

Then he went into his office and managed his private incomes which ranged everywhere from a nice little coffee plantation in Jamaica to the slice of oil land he irked out, but the less he discussed that the better.

And if he was tapped for a bit of courier service for the WSB, then he climbed aboard a private jet and had a little fun.

All in all, his life was exactly how he liked it.

So how in hell had he managed to add the grande but magnificent complication of Brenda Barrett to his simple life.

_"Jason."_

And that breathless sigh was haunting him at the oddest moments. Uncomfortable, he shifted in the too small chair, wondering why anyone wanted an outdoor wedding in the midst of summer, especially when they expected guests to choke themselves with a suit. Now if they had told people to come as you are, he might not have a problem with sitting in the heat for an hour.

He tried to keep his mind on the ceremony currently taking place, but the petite brunette standing at the alter, not the one in the wedding gown, was making things pretty damned difficult.

_The arch of her torso felt like satin beneath the slide of his mouth, smelled like sin. She stretched feline and sensual beneath the caress of his hands and the hunger aroused showed no signs of being saited soon. How was he to know he'd find heaven when he stripped that bit of silk from her skin? Uptilted breasts with taut nipples that begged for his tongue to lick and suckle. A narrow waist that his hands could easily span as she straddled his waist. Deceptively strong thighs that clenched tight around him as she rode him, took them both to the edge of ecstasy and happily shoved him over. _

All the while panting his name, "Jason," over and over in that raw moan that consumed him.

They had returned to Port Charles for Robin's wedding and managed to spend most of the time after that engagement party in bed. In fact, he was pretty sure that when they had put in an acceptable amount of time at the reception later, they would find themselves there again. That first time had been fast, desperate and just a bit shocked at the end.

_He rolled over, trying to drag oxygen into his starved lungs and felt the cool air of the room begin to dry the sheen of sweat covering his body. It wasn't a pool table, or the leather couch that she had tortured him with images of taking her on, but damned if the king sized bed had more than made up for it in space to maneuver. _

If he had the energy, he might grab one of the sheets from the floor to cover them with. Then she snuggled at his side, that soft hair tickling his senses and he actually felt his cock stir again.

"Again?" Her husky chuckle was accompanied by her fingers making soft patterns against his side. "You're insatiable."

When she looked into his eyes, the mischief there made him grin, "I think I missed a few spots."

"Not possible," she licked her lips and he followed the movement wondering how that slick torture would feel against his growing erection. Judging from that brow lift, it was exactly the thought she intended for him to have. "You managed a pretty thorough search the first time."

He rolled her beneath him, marveling at how small she was. How it roused all kinds of protective instincts and made his heart warm in his chest. "I think I missed this spot," he trailed a hand down the length of her leg, which she raised for his inspection, stopping at the silk behind her knee.

"I think you might have," she murmured, threading her hands into his hair and tugging him down for a brief but compelling kiss.

"Um, hmm," he agreed against her lips, "So I should just start all over from the beginning just to be on the safe side."

He knew what them being together meant for him, and he also knew that Brenda didn't just climb into bed with anyone. In fact, in all the time they had lived together, he could count on one hand the intimate relationships she had.

So his only question was, did this happen as a result of them coming back to Port Charles, or would it have eventually taken place anyway?

**_XXXX_**

Complications.

Brenda Barrett's life was full of them. And she found that she thrived on them. If she didn't have them, sometimes she went out and found a few just to keep things interesting. She woke in the morning, taking her usual bubble bath before standing in front of her packed wardrobe deciding on what outfit to wear for the day. It was important to maintain a certain image in the fashion industry, and considering she loved clothes, it wasn't exactly a hardship.

To prepare for the chaos of her life, she went down for a light breakfast of her favorite Smart Start cereal, juice and if she hadn't splurged the night before a small banana nut muffin. Pouring over designs or contracts she sipped a cup of vanilla chai tea and checked her planner for her meetings for the day.

And if she needed entertainment, there was always a quick jaunt to some exotic locale for a magazine shoot. She might have turned to fashion but photographers still loved her face.

All in all, life was great and everything she wanted it to be.

So how in the hell had she managed to add the stoic but wonderfully simple to the madness that was her life.

_"Beautiful."_

It wasn't like she hadn't been called that before but when his husky voice murmured that word over and over as he kissed his way across her skin, it resonated to the depths of her soul.

She had to be crazy to get involved with the man. Yet all the nights they shared together were memories that she would cherish for the rest of her life. And if he kept looking at her that way, she was going to embarass her closet friend by leaving this altar and stalking down the aisle to drag him off to the closest corner and have her merry way with him.

_"Damn that feels good," he moaned as she cupped his heavy cock and began stroking him. She watched his hips rise and fall, sliding his thick length through her fingers and felt her body clench with hunger. When he pinned her with that beautiful azure gaze, her skin blushed with heat. Then his mouth was on hers, devouring with a possessive lick of tongue. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs tracing over her nipples making her moan against the delicious sensations._

And this certainly wasn't the time or place. She adjusted the beautiful dress Robin chose for her and was determined to concentrate on the ceremony. All this pledging of devotion and love was enough to make her weepy. Patrick certainly looked like Robin was his everything and if she wanted a certain lug head to look at her that way, well what was wrong with that.

The other night at the engagement party, she hadn't meant to carry things so far with Sonny, but he had pissed her off. Acting as if the only reason Jason would want to be with her would be to replace another woman or get back at him.

As if.

She was Brenda Barrett, and certainly no man's substitute.

Sonny couldn't imagine what it meant to live with Jason for so long and realize that he actually liked her. Yes, he called her a nag and tried to pretend like he suffered her presense, but she knew better. She knew that if Jason wanted to be away from her, he would simply pack a bag and take off. He stayed because somehow in all of their bickering and taunts, they had become friends.

So were these passionate nights merely a case of friends with benefits?

Normally she would have confronted him, that's just the relationship they shared, but this wasn't the same as getting him to wear a suit to a wedding. Or actually learning to make small talk so people wouldn't be suspicious of his extra circurlar activites. This was important and part of her was just a bit scared of hearing the words come from his mouth.

Jason's relationships were casual and to the point. He wasn't promiscious, but neither was he committed. The women he spent time with understood that he was looking for neither love nor hearth and home.

It seemed they both had been burnt one too many times.

_"Oh come on," he groaned tugging her back into bed, to nuzzle the skin behind her ear. "It's too damned early to be moving about." _

"You always wake up early," she reminded him, though it had taken all of her energy to wake today after the long night they spent together.

"I like waking up next to you," he told her, and she tried to ignore the little thrill those words brought. "I like seeing your hair spread across my pillow. Smelling you, smelling me all over you."

Who knew Jason Morgan had the words of a romantic buried deep beneath that calm exterior? She didn't even bother to protest, simply wiggled closer to his groin, feeling him begin to stir. When his large hands cupped her breasts, his teeth nipping at her shoulder, she released a giggle trying to move away again. "If you're up for that then you can certainly have lunch at your family's house."

"I'd rather shoot myself in the foot," he muttered with a swirl of his tongue against her skin.

"I can make that happen you know," she threatened but arched back into his caress, unable to stop a moan of pleasure as his fingers tweaked her nipples playfully. "Come on Jason, it's just lunch."

"Its annoying," he grunted, lifting her leg to wrap over his. In one perfect thrust he was filling her and they both groaned at the sensation. It never failed, all he had to do was touch her and she was wet and achy for him. Yearned for just this, the deep consuming strokes of his cock inside her, the almost worshipful caress of his hands.

After one particularly intoxicating thrust, he stilled, holding her snug against him and started those slow grinding circles of his hips that drove her insane. She could feel the heat of his body course down the entire length of hers, and she wanted to yield to the erotic release he promised. "We could just stay here and no one would miss us."

Before she could shatter, she chanced a look over her shoulder and caught his hungry gaze. "They're the closet thing to family that I have."

After a quick breath, proving that his control was slipping just as quickly as hers, he nodded. She knew he hated going to the Quartermaines, felt uncomfortable with their expectations, but that he was willing to endure it for the afternoon for her made her heart swell. Her smile was instantly transformed to a moan when she felt his fingers slide across her belly, between her legs to strum her aroused clit.

"First things first," the growled against her ear.

So how did she admit that being with Jason was more than making love?

Should she risk the best relationship she had for the possiblity of something more?

**_XXXXX_**

"Dare I convince you to dance with me."

He smiled at the softly spoken words at his ear and didn't bother to hide his feelings. If anyone had seen him in this moment they would have been too shocked to respond. Seeing him tug Brenda around to sit in his lap would have caused a media frenzy, and nibbling on her ear would have disturbed the space/time continuum.

"You can ask," he told her before placing a small kiss on her mouth. "Doesn't mean you'll get it."

That teasing pout that he was all too familiar, was more than a threat to his well being. If he wasn't careful, he'd find himself out there in the middle of all and sundry who couldn't seem to keep their eyes to themselves doing the impossible.

Dancing.

"We could always go back up to our room," he offered, "I'll be happy to dance with you up there." Dance the temptation concealing the curves he enjoyed right off her body, he added mentally.

"Be good," she warned, earning her a grin that no one would have recognized.

"I am good," he reminded her, "You told me so this morning in the shower."

"Who are you and what have you done with Jason Morgan?"

"Just enjoying myself. You told me I should try to enjoy myself today and not sit in a corner all day. I'm just following orders."

She blinked up at him several times, that once playful expression turning solemn, "Jason, we should talk about this."

"Oh, my God! What the hell is going on here?"

Brenda tried not to groan at Carly's near hysterical shriek but it was damned near impossible. Her penchant for the dramatic really needed to be curbed. Granted they were in a discrete corner of the room, with the rest of the reception going on around them with no one the wiser, but Carly's volume was bound to draw unwanted notice.

"Do you always like to be the center of attention wherever you go," she needed to know.

"You-" Carly gawked briefly, pointed first to Jason then to her, "Jason, how could you?"

The look on his face clearly said he had no idea what Carly was talking about. "If you're done interrupting," he started, but Brenda nudged him with a finger. "What?" he frowned down at her, "She's getting on my nerves."

"Getting on your nerves? _I'm_ getting on your nerves? After everything we've been through together, you do this to me?

"Carly, I don't know if you realize it or not, but not everything in the world revolves around you." He pointed out in a not so kind voice that made her feel sorry for the woman. She recognized that tone and knew that Jason had reached the limits of his patience. "I don't spend my life wondering how the things I do affect you. In fact, I don't spend much time thinking about you at all. So what I'd really appreciate is if you'd leave me and Brenda alone, we were in the middle of something rather important before you arrived."

"But it's Brenda! Sonny's Brenda!"

"No," he said calmly, "She's simply Brenda, he doesn't own her, she isn't a possession. She's a woman with thoughts, feelings, wants and dreams that are all her own. Though before you interrupted I was certainly working on convincing her to be my Brenda."

"Really," she asked, and if looks could kill, Carly would have struck her down just then. Ignoring the harpy she wrapped both arms around Jason's neck. "And how were you going to do that?"

"Might have started from the beginning," he smirked, reminding her of everytime he said those words to her and the wonderful things that followed. "I know how much you like it when I start from the beginning."

"Ewww," came the loud retort, "That's just nasty and you know it." Carly never was one for being ignored. "Jason I can't believe you're being this cruel after everything this woman put me through. How can you call yourself my best friend and turn around and have sex with her?"

"Might be because I don't," he lifted some of her hair and curled it around his fingers, brought it to his nose to inhale briefly.

"Don't what?"

"Call you my best friend," he answered after a long moment of silence. "And there is a lot more between me and Brenda than simple sex."

"Really?" Now she was beginning to sound like a damned echo, but Jason was just full of surprises. From the corner of her eye, she watched Carly pout briefly, then stomp away. It was just the beginning of people's curiousity but at the moment all she cared about were the words Jason was saying because they were everything she wanted to hear.

"You don't live with a woman for two years and not develop some pretty complex feelings for her."

"Complex."

"Yeah," he nodded, his mouth twitching with amusement but the emotion in his eyes was more than wonderful. "Very complicated."

"I like complicated," she smiled.

"And somehow that doesn't surprise me."

The End : )


End file.
